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GUEST EDITORIAL: THE MORE THINGS STAY THE SAME
By Neil Kleid

They said things would be different.
They said the world was going to change.
They were wrong.

On September 11^th, America was devastated by the worst blow to U.S. soil since the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. The tragedy of the World Trade Center attack is barely a month old – the horror and pain fresh in our minds. Thousands of lives have been lost, thousands more affected in ways that can never heal perfectly. We have been witness to a national community coming together, lending each other our hearts, hands and soul. We have issued the “line in the sand” to those who perpetrated the act, and as of twenty-four hours ago, we began to enforce it.

They said on the news that the world would never be the same again – we would all lead our lives a bit differently. Again, I maintain, they were wrong.

Sure, for the most part everyone has altered their outlook a bit – happier to be alive, more in touch with those around us. Yes, better security measures are in place and our government is doing what it can to ensure a safer way of life. And, of course, each and every one of us is now looking over our shoulder from time to time – watching, waiting. However, there are basic human moral standards that – try as I might to overlook them – will always, sadly, be present.

DISCONNECTION

One week after the events of 9-11, I drove halfway across the country in a rented car to visit my family. I began in Manhattan and cruised down to I-80 through New Jersey. The vision of plumes of smoke covering the city brought tears to my eyes, while the sight of hundreds of flags draped from overpasses forced a smile. Just the night before, POWERS artist Mike Avon Oeming had emailed myself and some friends mentioning he had hung a flag from a bridge, and I wondered if one of them was his.

As I zoomed down the interstate, I flipped the radio dial to CBS News, listening to the death counts rise and account after account of personal pains and tragedy listed by newscasters, survivors and rescue workers. I spent a better half of the day listening to Mayor Guiliani promoting firefighters in a ceremony downtown. I felt a great connection to my sense of national pride, and a dear love for my fellow New Yorkers.

However, as I got further and further away from the area, I lost the radio signal and was forced to listen to local stations – most playing country music, a few playing classic rock. When I reached Youngstown, Ohio, I heard one of the deejays on a rock station interviewing a group of high school cheerleaders and their moms who had set up an impromptu car wash in the local mall parking lot. They said, and I quote, “ This is so much fun – we are so glad we were able to do this!” When the disc jockey asked if they meant they were glad for the opportunity to help, they replied “sure, but also to have all this fun – I mean we're upset and all about what happened, but this was fun.”

I suppose as you get further and further away – and if you have no personal connection to the goings on – it means less. We're so desensitized to events like these by TV and movies, that when it happens – unless we actually see and experience it – we tend to be less affected. In Detroit, the community was impacted by the tragedy due to the fact that the city boasts the largest Arab-American population in the country. I know a guy who works for the FBI, and he mentioned that when the attacks went down, there was a great deal of fear for the lives of those of Middle Eastern descent, due to vigilante groups and lynch mobs. But by and large there was nowhere near the grief and fear in the Midwest that I had seen here in New York. And that's due to the distance of the event.

As we get further away – in time as well as location – our feelings grow a bit muted. As I write this it's nearly a month since the WTC attacks. Sure – people still talk about it with anger and hurt, and things are being done for relief. We put up notices on websites and businesses that read “our hearts go out to the families” and so on. We fly flags, we read the papers. But the level of pain and grief today can never compare to what we felt during that fateful week. We are growing numb. We talk about the bombing of Afghanistan and we discuss how the government will handle security – but with less fervor now. How many of you out there in the last week went to give blood? Not as many as those who were turned away in the first two weeks of “ground zero.”

It's understandable – sad, but understandable.

IDIOCY

What is even sadder and NOT understandable is the way people acted during the aftermath. Sure, we've heard the tales of the guy who hiked gas prices right after the 11^th, and everyone has probably heard a joke done in bad taste. The other day an entertainment critic stated that there will inevitably be a movie about this – sorry to burst your bubble, all you fifteen year old girls, but “Titanic” was a tragedy long before it was a love story. People will find ways to profit, and morons will always spout off at the mouth.

But what about the reports of people who found ways to slip pocketknives and box cutters past airport security just to test the new measures? How about the guy who I saw selling “disaster survival kits” three weeks after the collapse, each with a red-white-and-blue ribbon on them? There's no call for stupidity like that.

Let's bring idiocy closer to home: I visit a fair amount of websites throughout the day. I post on several comic book related message boards—Comicon, Sequential Tart, The Comics Journal, Newsarama, etc. The day of the collapse, in fact, I kept myself together and remained calm by not only writing thoughts down on paper, but staying in touch with those I knew on the Brian Michael Bendis board and an improv message board I frequent. As a whole, the comics/internet community presented themselves rather well – with only a few morons amid the Bendis and Warren Ellis boards finding themselves attacked for blatant idiocy.

However, in the weeks to come, as the comics community began to join hands and do what they could to help raise relief funds, several of the staunch posters showed true colors. Marvel Comics' ribbon-on-the-cover idea was ridiculed, and a guy like Joe Quesada – who was DIRECTLY affected by the WTC collapse – was blasted and questioned about his motives. DC Comics was lambasted since they were the last to announce a 9-11 related project. CrossGen, who decided to do their part by helping out retailers affected by the disaster, was taken to task for not putting out a tribute book. Each move made by the big three or four was scrutinized, speculated upon and torn apart.

Why?

Explain to me how organizing an effort like the HEROES book or CrossGen's good natured offer to lend a hand to St. Marks Comics can be subjected to sniping and name calling? Why is it that whenever someone in the comics community attempts to do something good, his/her motives are questioned and the words twisted? Are we THAT cynical?

Frank Miller created a wonderful portrait of Captain America in an effort to help raise much needed funds. Brazilian artist Mike Deodato's Cap overlooking a broken NYC was the first comic book image on the scene—both were heavily ridiculed in certain areas, and both were subject to critique and debate. A release from Marvel Comics mentioned in passing the possibility of collecting all the tribute books into one giant tome. They were then harangued on the Comicon.com boards for doing it simply to get their name on the cover, and labeled it as “just another Marvel marketing ploy.” There's no call for that. Where the hell do people get off?

CATHARSIS

One incident related to the idiocy of above is directly related to me. Many in the comics community are aware of the story, and in my continuing quest for peace, I will not mention the name of the person who subjected me to the following. I will simply refer to the gentleman in question as “Gripey.”

The night of the WTC event, I found I could not deal with all going through my head, so I sat down and wrote my thoughts out. I formatted it into a comic book script, and placed it aside to read now and again throughout the week. That evening I was conversing with two writing colleagues – Danny Donovan and A. Dave Lewis – about the day's tragedy. Dave lives in Washington – right near the Pentagon – and Danny (a North Carolina native) was trying to get our perspective from the “inside.” In the course of the conversation I discovered that they too had written stories about the tragedy. We talked some more and decided that in our quest to help out in some way- any way - we would get the stories drawn up and create a comic book from which the profits would go to the Red Cross. We wanted to help in the best way we knew how – comics.

We began to talk to industry folk we knew to see if others were interested in a project like this, and we found that there was a host of people out there who had the same idea. The three of us blossomed into a stable of fifteen – heavy hitters like Mike Oeming, Frank Cho and the Insight Studios crew, Gail Simone and others. I sent out a cold email to several publishers to see if they wanted to climb aboard, and after being wished good luck by Joe Quesada, Mike Carlin, Jamie Rich and others (all who pledged to help as they could), we were fortunate to hitch our star to the personable Jeff Mason and his Alternative Comics banner. Jeff had already been in contact with many indie creators who were interested in doing the same (such as Nick Bertozzi, Tom Hart and Dean Haspiel) and it was decided we would join forces on a 128 page book. Things were looking up, and I was excited that we would be able to get this book done and help raise more cash for the disaster relief. The book was named 9-11: Emergency Relief (www.indyworld.com/relief) and LIBERTY MEADOWS creator Frank Cho whipped up a sensational cover over that first weekend.

As Jeff, Danny and Dave collected other creators, I went off in search of my own. I helped bring James Kochalka (MONKEY VS ROBOT) into the mix, as well as my personal artist, Jason Narvaez. In a rare moment of pride, I mentioned the project to a friend in the industry (Gripey) who told me to remove myself from the project, as I do not have a "name." Gripey said "It's bad karma to break in with this stuff. In fact, I would go as far to say that nobody should sign their name to any of the pieces."

I mentioned I was not trying to "break into comics" with this - I was simply doing what I could with my artform to help raise cash. He said, if so, I should find larger "names" like Frank Miller and replace my story with his ("you should find pro talent that has name draw to replace every single solitary wannabe"). I mentioned that with the book being 128 pages, there would be room for ALL stories – if Miller wanted to put a story in, he was more than welcome. He said he would help gather pros as long as I took myself and my two friends out of the mix - calling us "fans using this to break into comics."

Gripey went on to say I should use my other skills for the effort, such as graphic design or project management - and that my comic book skills have not earned me any money. "What makes you think that suddenly now your comic skills are so valuable? You haven't been able to turn any of your comic book work into money for anyone. Why would your stuff suddenly become a commodity?" he asked.

ME: “Why is it about 'commodity'? Why is it about who makes more money? Are you telling me that if Frank Miller came along, we should drop someone like Dean Haspiel?”

GRIPEY: “Uhhh YEAH.”

ME: “Shouldn't it be about reaction, about the need to help? Honestly? I would use Miller AND Haspiel.”

GRIPEY “If you are raising money, yes, Frank Miller is definitely going to do more for the cause then Haspiel.”

I asked Gripey why it was about how much money I made from comics – shouldn't it be about my reactions and doing what I can to help raise cash, and he said "It's not the money. It's that its pretty disturbing to see people you like and respect piggybacking on a tragedy to break into comics."

I broke into tears.

"Why don't you just be a helper? Or a production manager? Why do you have to be talent?" he wanted to know. I answered "I'm doing both... I wrote the story waaaay before the idea came to mind as a therapeutic reaction ... if they want me out, fine. I'll be out. But why is my story any less important on a HUMAN scale than anyone else's? Because I don't have a NAME? Bull. I'm human like everyone else." To which he responded "Yeah, but you are talking about raising money with comics. As a human, you can go down and sift through the ashes."

To which I retorted I had done so. Well, not ashes per se - but I did what I could, helping out at blood drives, sorting clothes and making sandwiches for shelters and rescuers, and will continue to do so.

I felt awful - here I was trying to do something with the art form I love, and I'm called an opportunist attempting to break in on the back of a tragedy. I reacted to what I saw, and wrote it all down. I decided to focus that reaction into something good - a disaster relief fund comic book - and I'm labeled slime. I wanted to cry. I spoke to my parents about it, but that was no help. I was torn – caught between my desire and my low self-esteem. I felt sick and I needed advice. So I got on the phone and called the only people I knew who could help give me advice—comic book professionals.

I called Dean Haspiel in Brooklyn, who assured me that if I had something personal to say, I should say it. The book had everything to do with “personal reactions within the tragedy” and doing what we could to pitch in. Dean told me to make sure what I had to say was personal and filled with meaning. He then said I should get back to work.

I emailed Joe Quesada at Marvel Comics. Joe and I have a fairly friendly relationship, and I figured he would be able to give me a much needed outside opinion.

Neil Kleid is the co-founder of Third Eye Publishing and the creator of STAND UP COMICS- a series of forums designed to get the comics medium out into the public eye. He is a graphic designer, actor and improvisational genius. His heart REALLY DOES goes out to the families who lost their loved ones in the tragedy of September 11^th, and he urges every reader out there to do his/her part to aid in relief efforts.

Ed Mathews took the photos.